


And I Ache

by orphan_account



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Discovery, brad is supportive, david comes out, i wrote this after drinking an entire bottle of wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: David finally finds a name for that thing he's been feeling his whole life.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi & David Brittlesbee, Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee, David Brittlesbee & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	And I Ache

David often found it hard to describe how he was feeling. Not to say that he didn’t feel. Quite the contrary, in fact. He often felt so full of emotion that he could burst at any time. 

But he could never quite put a finger on what he was feeling. He could never give the vastness of emotion a name. 

Sure, he could name the most trivial of emotions; happiness, sadness, anger, that kind of thing. He could name the feeling that made his muscles tense at the smell of Jack Daniels. He could put a name to the feeling that made him flinch at sudden loud noises. 

That was fear. 

But he could never explain the feeling he got in his chest when the boy from his math class smiled at him and handed him a gummy worm from his lunchbox; his brain would go fuzzy for a moment before a rain cloud appeared overhead and washed the warmth away. He didn’t know what to call the feeling when he saw a shirtless man on the front of one of his mom’s ‘lady magazines’ as she read it in the living room; when his head would go heavy and his mouth would hang slightly agape before his stomach would pull tight and he would feel like he was going to throw up. 

There simply weren’t words for the feeling. Or if there were, he didn’t know them.

David didn’t have the happiest childhood. His father would always have a whiskey bottle and and a clenched fist in hand, the looming promise of unnecessary violence, and his mother was always equipped with her arrow-like words, ready to tear him down. 

It was always, “Art is for girls, David.” and “Theatre is for gays, you don’t want to be a gay, do you, David?” and “Music is for pansies, David. You should get a real hobby. Like sports, or business.”

Needless to say, creative expression was not valued in the Brittlesbee household. 

So when David finally escaped to college, he felt like a man released from prison.

He majored in business to keep his folks happy, but minored in art. That was purely for himself. 

He kissed guys at parties, even going further once or twice. But he always said it was just drunk fun. Just a chance to experiment. He didn’t feel anything towards them.

He met Joanie in his third year and they fell into one another fast. She was the first person he had ever truly loved. They stuck together like they were superglued. They were the perfect cheesy rom-com couple. It made him push down those feelings for a while. But he didn’t mind, he was happy.

They got married when David was 26. He didn’t invite his parents to the wedding. They came anyway. 

Their marriage was wonderful until it wasn’t. They woke up together, ate breakfast together and kissed each other goodbye before they went to work. They’d come home, eat dinner together, talk about their day, sleep together and then drift off tangled up in one another. They had inside jokes and holiday traditions. 

They had ‘exception lists’ made up of celebrities that they were allowed to sleep with if the chance ever arose. Though it was more a joke than anything serious. David always agreed with the men on Joanie’s list and she would tease him lightheartedly as he blushed. 

Then they slowly fell out of love. The sex stopped. Then the talking about their day. Then the mutual dinners. Then the sleeping in the same beds.

And then one day Joanie came to the office in the middle of the day and handed him a stack of papers. “I want a divorce.”

“What? Why?” David asked, shocked. He knew why, but he was still trying desperately to cling to the one shred of happiness he had left. 

“We aren’t in love any more.” She sighed, looking away. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Davey. You know we aren’t happy anymore. This is better for both of us.”

And with that she left the room, and then the building, leaving David alone in his desk chair, papers in hand, shocked expression stuck on his face, as the entire office stared at him. 

“David? You okay?” Brad had said from his desk. 

And all David could do was nod. And then leave the room. And run up to the roof, just for a moment to himself. 

The divorce is easy enough. Paperwork wise, that is. Emotionally it's draining. David felt like he hadn’t slept in months. 

Joanie had moved out and the house was too empty, too quiet. All thoughts of his internal crisis were dissipated as his life seemed to fall apart around him. 

And then it was over. The divorce was finalised. David had sold the house and bought an apartment uptown, closer to the MQ building. Joanie was living in New York. And everything was different. 

“So, have you thought about what you’re gonna do going forward?” Brad asked one day on their shared lunch break, months later. When David gave him a confused look, he continued. “Like, do you think you’re gonna find someone new? A rebound, maybe?”

David blushed, letting out a quiet laugh. “No, rebounds are definitely not my thing.”

Brad gave him his usual smirk. “Okay, what about a girlfriend?” He said taking another mouthful of his presumably very expensive vegan salad. “Or boyfriend. Whichever.” He added quickly. 

David was quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond.

He looked away, staring down at his sandwich. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” 

Brad offered him an understanding smile, an expression that was unusual on his face, but David appreciated it. Even though his head all of a sudden felt like he was inside a washing machine. 

Huh, Brad really did spin him out sometimes.

Their conversation had got him thinking. Probably too much. 

Definitely too much. 

Because there he was, at 3am, focused on his computer, rapidly scrolling through every resource he could find on the intricacies of the fluidity of sexuality. It was like his brain was going at hyperspeed, steadily careening towards overdrive. But he couldn’t stop. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, just out of his grasp. He could feel it.

Just a little longer. Almost there.

And then he found it. What he had been looking for all along. 

_Bisexuality: an attraction to two or more genders._

He let out a deep breath. One it felt like he had been holding for years. Tears sprung to his eyes and ran a hand down his face as he sat back in his chair. 

He finally had a name for that feeling. 

In a way it made him feel whole, like he’d finally become his true self. He’d found his final form. 

He started laughing. A light, free sound that made him feel like he could float away at any moment.

Then it all came crashing down.

Suddenly the breath he had let go got caught in his throat. His eyes stung as his tears turned sour. His hands began to shake. 

He realised pretty quickly that, though he had come to a freeing realisation within himself, he would have to tell other people. He couldn’t go on without people knowing, somehow that was scarier than the idea of telling people, which itself was scary. 

He took a shaky breath and turned his laptop off before dragging himself to bed. He could deal with this in the morning. 

The next day at work he felt jittery all day, like he had drunk too much coffee. Except the thing was, he hadn’t had coffee. Or any caffeine at all, for that matter. But his hands shook, and his eyes darted, and he didn’t take a proper breath for hours.

It was coming up on 9pm, everyone had gone home and David was still trembling violently. But Brad was still there, packing away his laptop so he could go home.

“David, are you okay? You’ve been shaking all day.” He asked, concerned.

David slowly spun his chair to face him, fiddling with his hands. “I had a, uh, a realisation last night. About myself. And it’s kind of eating me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Brad asked in a surprisingly soft tone of voice. He walked over to the couch and sat down, leaving enough space for David to join him if he wanted. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

David hesitated for a moment, before pushing himself out of his chair and taking a seat next to Brad on the couch. He needed to get this off his chest. “My entire life I’ve felt like there was something wrong with me. Like I was never fully there, and I couldn’t figure out why.” His voice wavered. “But then, over the last few months, and last night especially, I finally cracked it. I realised what was wrong with me this entire time.” He could feel his eyes watering, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. “I…”

When he didn’t say anything more, Brad shifted closer, taking hold of his hand and squeezing gently. “Hey, you’re okay. You can tell me anything, D-man I’m not gonna judge you.” He smiled softly, tilting his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re safe, I promise. Here, look.” He held up the pinkie of his free hand. David laughed a little wetly, swallowing down a hiccup, and linked his pinkie with Brad’s. “See, that wasn’t so hard. What is it?”

“Well, I realised that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. I realised I’ve been suppressing a part of myself my entire life and I’m fed up with it. I was lying to myself for so long.” He sniffed, tears still steadily running down his face. Brad just listened patiently. “I’m forty-three and I _just_ realised.” He felt Brad squeeze his hand a little tighter. “That's such a long time. It scares me, thinking about how long it took me to figure it out. How long I spent being half terrified of this thing I couldn’t name about myself. But I’m not scared anymore. It has a name now, and it doesn’t make me any less of a man, even though I know my parents would say it does.” He was crying openly, tears falling faster and harder as he kept talking. “I’m bisexual, Brad.” 

He looked at the other man, waiting for a reaction, as his breath came in choked off gasps. Brad just pulled him into his chest and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re okay, you’re safe with me, okay? I’m right here.” Brad whispered softly. The words of reassurance tipped him over the edge and suddenly he was sobbing, clutching at Brad’s shirt with his eyes clenched shut.

But Brad didn’t push him away. He didn’t hate him. He just stayed. And it was nice.

I felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

His sexuality felt like less of a burden after that night. He could say he was bisexual with ease. He felt almost carefree. It no longer felt like a weight on his shoulders, but instead like wings lifting him up.

Coming out was much easier too after his talk with Brad. It became almost trivial in certain moments. 

One time, when his car was in the shop, he had to take the bus to work. He told the old lady sitting next to him. She didn’t exactly hear him, instead just yelling “What? Did you say something, dear?” After he spoke. But it felt nice all the same.

He and Brad got much closer over the next few weeks, spending longer lunches with one another, hanging out after work, making inside jokes about the way Ian and Poppy would bicker. It was sweet, and David was happy. 

He started to notice the way Brad’s smile lit up the room, the way his curls hugged his ears and his so-called ‘night time’ glasses sat perfectly upon his nose. He noticed the grace with which he carried himself, and the way his hands were slender and strong. 

He noticed that he couldn’t help but think about every move he made when he was around Brad, overly conscious.

 _Shit._ He realised not long later. _I have a crush on Brad._

He didn’t just like Brad for his looks, though. Brad was endlessly, tirelessly supportive. He would constantly ask David how he was doing, if he was overwhelmed, if he had come out to anyone else. He was there for him, in every sense of the word. 

David started to think Brad could like him back when the midnight phone calls started. He woke up around 12am to find his phone ringing, the screen always showing the contact picture he had taken of Brad a couple weeks ago. A picture of him holding a Scrooge McDuck plush toy in the Disney store. “Hey, what’s up?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep.

“I had a nightmare. Wanted to hear your voice.” Brad’s voice came through the line, tinny and small.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“Not really. Don’t know how to calm down enough to sleep.”

“I have an idea. Go to your window, look out and find the moon.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.” David breathed a soft laugh, climbing out of bed and walking to his window. He tugged the curtains open. “Can you see it?”

“Yeah.” Brad whispered. “What’s this all about, D-Train, come on.” 

He continued complaining until David interrupted. “I’m looking too.” Brad fell silent. “Now, just watch it with me. Pretend I’m there if you need to. Just watch it and think about how when you wake up the nightmare will be long gone, you probably won’t even remember it. It’ll just be a distant memory. Okay?”

“Okay.” Brad whispered, voice even quieter than before.

The calls began to happen more frequently. Every time either of them had a nightmare they would sit up and watch the moon. 

Phone calls quickly progressed to facetimes and soon enough they paid more attention to each other than the moon. 

When he told Brad he wanted to come out to Joanie, he was there for him for every step of the way, from calling her to arrange a time for lunch to facetiming as David picked out his clothes. 

“Good luck. I’m sure it’ll go great.” Brad had said from the pixelated phone screen. David had blushed.

The lunch with Joanie was going well. They laughed like old friends, rather than a broken couple. He had missed her. He didn’t love her in that way anymore, but he had always cherished her company.

“Hey, do you remember when we used to have those celebrity exception lists?” He laughed lightly over dessert.

She smiled fondly at him. “Yeah, I do. Why do you bring them up?”

He broke eye contact for a moment, staring down into his cheesecake. “Well I, uh… I updated my list.” 

Joanie gave him a confused look. “David, sweetie, we’re not-”

“I know, I know. Let me just… Can I just tell you?” He sighed, pleading with his eyes. She nodded, sitting back in her seat, watching him. He could feel himself start to sweat beneath his sweater, the one Brad picked out for him, and his hands started to shake. He couldn’t meet her eye. “The first four are the same as usual. Sandra Oh, Angela Bassett, Amy Adams, Marion Cotillard…” He paused, taking a breath. “And Michael Fassbender.” He gulped, balling his hands into fists in an attempt to stay composed. “I’m bisexual, Joanie.” 

He finally looked up at her, expecting confusion or disgust. Instead he was met with surprise. She was quiet, and David was worried she was about to make fun of him or walk out. But instead she reached across the table and took his clenched fist in her manicured hand, rubbing her thumb over his skin. She smiled. “Thank you for sharing that with me, David. I’m so pleased that you’re comfortable enough to tell me.”

And suddenly David was all choked up, his heart aching in his chest. And for a moment he forgot that they were divorced. 

But Joanie knew him too well. She sat back in her seat, releasing his hand and grabbing her wine, and smirked, immediately dissolving the tension. “Michael Fassbender? My god, to be alone with him... Good call, David. I can’t believe I didn't think of him. I wanna add him to my list."

And the weight is lifted from his shoulders.

A little while later she asked if there was anyone he had his eye on, and all he could do was blush. She smirked again, begging to know more. David knew she wouldn’t stop prodding until he gave in, and so he told her all about Brad.

By the time he had finished talking Joanie was sat staring at him, an awestruck expression on her face. “David.” 

“Yes..?”

“Go get him.” She said firmly.

“No, I can’t.”

“This man is clearly in love with you, you idiot!” She yelled, drawing the attention of the rest of the restaurant. “And you’re in love with him too! You have to go get him!”

“What? right now?”

“Yes!” She yelled, waving her hands at him. “Go!”

He gestured to the table. “But what about-”

“We have time. Go!”

And so David rushed from the restaurant to Brad’s house with absolutely no plan. 

He paced back and forth on the porch for a good while, trying and failing to think of what to say, until suddenly the door was open. And Brad was leaning in the doorway, his usual smirk painted on his lips. David stopped in his tracks, startled.

“D-Man! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m in love with you.” He blurted, kicking himself for letting it slip so easily. 

Brad’s eyes widened. “Did I just hear that right? Because it’s not cool to play with a guy's feelings like that, Brittlesbee.” He crossed his arms over his chest protectively.

“You heard me right.” He took a careful step forward. “I’m so incredibly in love with you, Bakshi. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

And then Brad’s hands were on the sides of his face. And Brad’s lips were on his. And the world seemed to glow around them. Everything falling into place.

“I love you too, Davey.” Brad whispered against his lips.

And David knew he had finally found his place in the world.


End file.
